Tired of fighting
by 1991anna-snow
Summary: Eames fights it but Arthur becomes damn hard to resist when he is drunk. (Rated M for language and sexual themes but mostly for future chapters.) Thanks for reading & reviews :-*


Arthur closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he felt the world spinning. He rarely got drunk and when he did, he made sure he was alone.

He was always in control of himself – his refined looks and the never leaving seriousness upon his face have created him a reputation but alcohol was something that could ruin it in a minute. It always took just a few glasses of whiskey or any other liquor to turn his neat and expressionless self into an overreacting, sentimental and also _horny_ mess which Arthur didn´t wish other people to see.

He rarely got drunk and it usually took a special occasion when he did.

But that night, it wasn´t the case. Arthur excused himself politely after dinner, saying he had felt tired and a little sick. It earned him a concerned look from Ariadne but he somehow managed to convince her and the others he would be alright and finally left the dining room. He was tired of working late every night, he was tired of the expectations everyone seemed to have of him, tired of the numbness that has smothered his body for so long. He was so tired but sleep was not what he sought.

After arriving to his hotel room a sudden feeling of loneliness took over him. For a moment he wished someone had stopped him, not let him leave like this, pretending and alone. He couldn´t help but felt like pretending all the time, wearing a mask nobody could see through. And maybe alcohol wasn´t the only thing able to take that sham away but he was too exhausted to look for any other way to relax that night.

He took another gulp from the bottle of whiskey and though he didn´t drink much, he was already beginning to feel really drunk. In fact, he wasn´t used to drink at all. It´s been a while since the last time he got drunk. It seemed like hundred years ago.

Arthur´s face writhed with disgust as he swallowed the bitter drink. He always hated the flavor. Why was he drinking it anyway? He hasn´t felt any positive change on him yet, he was beginning to feel even worse, actually.

XXX

The silence of the room was interrupted by a knock on the door. Arthur brushed his eyes and spread his arms over the armchair.

"Go away!" he screamed, but after a second knock he stood up and walked to the door holding on random furniture to prevent himself from falling as his head was spinning badly. When he opened the door, he found Eames standing in front of him.

"I came to check on you. You´re alright?" Eames asked, giving Arthur a long observant look.

"Why should I not be alright?" Arthur asked testy, frowning on Eames´ shoes.

"Because you said you were sick, remember? Honestly, you look exactly that."

"I´m fine," Arthur sighed as he closed his eyes and pressed his hand on his forehead, leaning against the door frame.

"That´s barely convincing."

"Whatever, Eames", said Arthur already on his way back to the armchair, leaving the door open.

"Is this supposed to be an invitation?"

"I said - whatever", was the answer. Eames sighed as he looked around the room and walked in, closing the door behind his back.

"You´ve been drinking," said Eames, looking down at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the tea table. Arthur just jerked his shoulder in response.

XXX

They talked for couple of minutes, but Eames soon figured out that Arthur was not in the best state to discuss work at that moment. He tried to maintain the conversation but Arthur didn´t seem to follow and it made Eames think that he doesn´t want him to be there at all. But in fact, Arthur felt really grateful Eames came to see him, although he didn´t do anything to let Eames see it.

"I´ll better be going, you need to go to bed", Eames said as he stood up from the couch. "And I´ll better take this with me", he added and pointed at the bottle. Not a single reaction came from Arthur.

"Alright. Good night, Arthur", Eames said through a small yawn and smiled at him when Arthur suddenly stood up and hugged Eames so tightly he has never hugged anyone in his life before. As he held him, he felt Eames´ arms wrapped around him as well, the large hands on his back warm even through the fabric of his shirt.

There was no way Eames saw that coming. Still in a slight shock and disbelief, he began to rub small circles over the other´s man back, soothing. He felt Arthur´s weight on his shoulders as Arthur leaned against him completely. Eames´ muscles tensed a bit as he held him standing, wondering if he should just stay like that or help Arthur sit down. He also couldn´t decide whether he liked holding him like that or not.

After a few seconds Arthur´s arms finally let go of Eames, their bodies still pressed together. As Arthur pulled back slowly, his cheek rubbed slightly against Eames´ ear. That little sensation alarmed Eames´ nerves and he felt chills running down his spine. Arthur muttered incomprehensively against the tanned skin and moved his face so their noses touched. Eames froze once again and couldn´t prevent his breath from getting heavier.

Arthur´s lips were pressed onto Eames´s so slightly they barely touched but still Eames couldn´t contain a small shaky breath that escaped from his mouth. It was him who pulled back and wiped his mouth thoughtlessly, looking down.

"I should go," he said quietly as he turned around and headed for the door, his heart still pounding in his chest.

"Eames!"

He froze on his spot as he heard Arthur call.

"Don´t go."

It took a few seconds until Eames finally turned back, even if he thought it wasn´t a good idea.

"Go to sleep, Arthur." He wanted to make his voice sound firm but it failed him.

"Stop telling me what to do."

"No. You need to go to bed. You´re drunk. And we have work to do tomorrow." It sounded more like a pleading than a command.

"Drink with me, Eames." Arthur´s voice was suddenly soft as he reached for the bottle.

"Hell, no." Eames walked back to the tea table and took the bottle before Arthur could stop him and he put it back to the hotel fridge.

"You want me to stay? Alright, I´ll stay and won´t leave until you´re asleep."

"Then go. I´m not going to bed," Arthur replied sulky.

"Yes you are. You´re drunk."

"So what?! Stop saying it over and over!" Arthur´s moods seemed to change every second.

"Now you sound like a child."

"Fuck you," Arthur said quietly and he sounded strangely calm. His eyes were watching Eames as he came closer. Suddenly, Arthur couldn´t stop a yawn opening his mouth wide, even if he tried to fight it. The need was just too strong so all he could do was to cover his mouth with his hand and look away.

"See? You´re tired," said Eames triumphantly. "Now where´s the bedroom?"

Arthur jerked his head towards a dark room with open door. He already admitted that he was too tired to fight Eames.

As he stood up and walked, his head spun again. He would most likely fall back down to the armchair if Eames wasn´t there to support him.

"I can walk by myself, okay?" Arthur grumbled but at the same time he held on Eames´ muscular arms and leaned against him to stand up.

"If you say so…"

XXX

The bedroom was dark and the light was only coming from the other room but it was enough for them to see just fine. Arthur gave Eames a quick look before turning his attention to his own shirt, beginning to undo the top button but his clumsy fingers didn´t obey him. "Fuck this shit," he mumbled as he sat down, his chin pressed to his chest as he was looking down at the button he was fighting.

"Here, let me help you," Eames sighed. He was just considering to leave, but couldn´t watch Arthur in his desperate effort any longer.

Eames sat down on the bed next to Arthur and began to unbutton his shirt from the top down. The buttonholes were tight and it really wasn´t easy to undo the buttons but Eames´ fingers seemed to be doing way better than Arthur´s.

"How did you even do these up", he chuckled and felt a strange nervousness took over him when his hands were at the level of Arthur´s abdomen.

When Eames reached down for another button, he accidentally touched Arthur´s stomach. The skin was smooth and warm there and Eames could feel how it twitched at his touch. The gaspy breath Arthur released gave Eames goosebumps all over his back. He hated his reactions – how was even possible that Arthur was turning him on like that?!

"Sorry", he mumbled and halted for a second before he reached for the last undone button, but a firm hand stopped him.

"Do it again."

"Arthur," Eames breathed when Arthur suddenly leaned closer and set his lips half an inch away from Eames´, just like he did a few minutes before when they hugged in the other room.

"Kiss me," he whispered hot against Eames´ lips. Perhaps he was too much of a coward to do it himself.

That was when Eames gave up. He breathed heavily through his nose as he pressed his lips onto Arthur´s, feeling his own pulse in the pressure. The heat in his belly began to spread when Arthur´s lips parted slightly and invited Eames´ lower lip into the warm wetness of his mouth.

They continued to kiss slowly, their moves were controlled and uncertain. Eames´ body was on fire, he wasn´t used to be the one holding back but he could barely move, so paralyzed he was. And he still fought the feeling of this being wrong, that it´s just the alcohol making Arthur do this kind of things and he hated the feeling of taking advantage of it.

With an effort he pulled back. "You´re drunk", he muttered.

"I want you", Arthur replied quietly, his voice low and breathy.

"Be careful what you wish," said Eames with a husky voice of his.

"I wish to fuck you", blurted Arthur in no time.

Despite how hot it was to hear those words coming from Arthur´s mouth, Eames couldn´t help it but chuckled. He felt like talking to a stubborn teenager. Suddenly, most of the stress fell off his shoulders.

"Really. You want to fuck me?" He turned towards Arthur, he wanted to see his face.

"Yeah", Arthur breathed, leaning closer.

"You know, I´m usually not the one getting fucked," said Eames, trying to keep a distance between the two of them.

"I don´t care Eames. Come here," Arthur moaned, closing the distance again.

"You´re so drunk."

"I´m so horny…"

"Tell me about it," Eames sighed, feeling the hard bulge between his legs.

"Then what the fuck", Arthur cried angrily, "is your problem?!"

"My problem is that I don´t want to feel like a rapist in the morning! Tomorrow when you wake up, you´ll hate yourself for this." And you will hate me, he added quietly for himself.

Arthur frowned and opened his mouth to speak but before he could say something, Eames placed his heavy hand on Arthur´s shoulder and stood up. He kissed him on the top of his head and kept his lips sunk in Arthur´s hair for a second before he pulled back.

"Good night, Arthur."

"Then fuck you, Eames!" Yeah, you´re welcome, darling, said Eames to himself, smiling sadly on his way towards the door.

"At least blow me!"

The tone was desperate and begging and the words hit Eames like a punch to his chest. He stifled the grin settling on his face and spun around on his heel.

"What did you just say to me?"


End file.
